


Comfort and Joy

by Pixiesnix



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Ludicrous Amounts of Fluff, M/M, Mild Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:08:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24905086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixiesnix/pseuds/Pixiesnix
Summary: Julian and Elim celebrate their first Christmas together.
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Comments: 10
Kudos: 39





	Comfort and Joy

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: I realize that nobody is sure if Bashir celebrates Christmas or not, BUT...Christmas seems like a very "Federaji" holiday, and as much as it's become secularized in our times, it's not unreasonable to assume it wouldn't be even more so then.
> 
> Also...I'm gonna level with y'all. This is fluff. Pure, shameless fluff. And a little smut. This is me we're talking about here. 
> 
> As always, thanks to the wonderful Obsidian_Operative and Syaunei for their continued friendship and support!

Elim Garak was roused from his slumber by the sensation of soft, full lips brushing against his. Only a few years ago, that would have had him reaching under his pillow for a disruptor and tackling the intruder to the ground. Now, however…the taste, the silken texture were all deliciously familiar to him.

“Zjhul’yan…”

He opened his eyes to see his beloved grinning down at him, holding a sprig of mistletoe over their heads. Julian leaned in for a sweet, lingering kiss.

“Happy Christmas, my love,” Julian whispered.

“Happy Christmas, my treasure,” Elim replied, unable to keep a most undignified, stupidly soppy grin from spreading over his face.

This was their first Christmas together and, while there was much about the holiday he didn’t understand (such as the idea of Santa Claus—who in their right mind would allow some deranged old man to break into their house while they slept, gifts or no) he rather liked some aspects of it. The tradition of kissing under the mistletoe was one he particularly enjoyed, hence the plant being placed all over their quarters. Every chance he got, Julian would stop him under one of those sprigs and kiss him like he was the most desirable being in the alpha quadrant.

He’d done some research and found the plant to be poisonous. When he pointed this out to Julian, his love had just given him a quirky grin and said something about dangerous things being the sweetest of all. He would have argued the point, but his beloved had gotten that sultry look in his eyes and started moving toward him in a way that told him continuing the conversation would be most foolish indeed.

Continuing on that train of thought, Elim ducked his head to kiss and nip along a golden shoulder, only to be hauled from their bed by an enthusiastic (and quite naked) Julian. As his love tugged him toward the living area, he had the presence of mind to grab their robes on the way out of the bedroom.

Wrapping the black silk around himself, Garak blinked sleepily and attempted to focus on the scene before him. There was the Christmas tree, sparkling with the decorations and tinsel they had carefully applied some days before. That was one of the less understandable traditions—putting a tree in one’s living space only to throw it out a few days later—but Julian had been so eager to install it, and Elim found there was little his beloved wanted that he could deny him.

Under the tree, Elim saw there were presents. A lot of presents. Really quite a lot of presents. He stared, open-mouthed, before looking over at a now be-robed and blushing Julian.

“I…suppose I went a little overboard,” Julian smiled sheepishly at him, but quickly brightened. “But I just know you’ll love them!” Excitedly, he tugged Elim over to the mound of gifts, settling him on the nearby couch and presenting him with the first of many packages.

And so the unwrapping commenced—Elim carefully opening each present, careful not to rip the paper, and Julian tearing into each gift like a predator tearing into a fresh kill. If he were honest with himself, Elim would have to allow that he too, had perhaps overindulged his beloved when it came to gifts. But he decided it was well worth it when he saw the look of delight on his love’s beautiful face as he opened each present.

He knew he had chosen well—a few first editions of Ian Fleming’s more popular works, a bottle of single-malt scotch, a pair of red silk pajamas he had lovingly crafted himself, a pair of leather handcuffs (a gag gift, he insisted when Julian held them up with a naughty grin), and a humorous book on the merits of arguing. Julian laughed when he opened that gift, teasingly asking if his flirting needed work.

Elim, for his part, was moved by the care and thought his Julian clearly put into his gifts. Among them were a hardbound copy of Cardassian poetry and a collection of Shakespeare’s love sonnets. Next on the gift list was an isolinear rod containing a selection of Cardassia’s best string quartets, a bottle of fine vintage kanar, and a pair of red fuzzy handcuffs (another gag gift, Julian insisted).

After the present-opening, Julian informed him it was time to make the Christmas meal. To tell the truth, Elim loved cooking with his beloved in their little kitchen area. It was those little moments of domesticity that Elim craved. It was so cozy, so warm, so…intimate, far from the cold, empty, duty-driven life he’d once lived. He smiled softly as he watched Julian work, flitting here and there, occasionally throwing him a quirky, lopsided smile. As he watched his treasure, Elim offered a silent prayer of gratitude to whatever Hebitian deities had brought this blessing of a man into his life.

That afternoon, when the meal was over and the dishes put away, Elim settled down on one end of the couch to read his book of Cardassian poetry. Julian had unceremoniously draped himself across the rest of the sofa, nestling his head in Elim’s lap as he opened his book. Elim chuckled and gently ran his fingers through silken locks as he read, occasionally reading aloud a love poem he thought particularly expressed his feelings for his precious Julian. Julian would grin and lift himself up for a kiss…and another…and another, until Elim pulled back with a softly reproachful look. 

“Beloved, I am TRYING to read…”

Julian frowned, breathless, as Elim serenely returned to his book. Or pretended to, anyway. They both knew how this game would end, but it was oh so much fun to play.

Julian flipped over on his stomach, his book tossed onto the coffee table. He ran long, slender fingers over a silk-covered thigh. Elim stilled as he felt those fingers move upward, inward, unerringly toward their target.

“Elim…”

Elim did not reply, doing his best to ignore the desire spreading through him like wildfire. He sucked in a ragged breath as his beloved’s hand ran over the growing bulge between his thighs. When those wicked fingers slipped under the hem of his robe, touching, teasing, stroking, he allowed a soft growl to escape.

“Zjhul’yan…”

“Elim…” silk moved to the side, a hot, clever mouth engulfing him. He looked down at wide, hazel eyes, holding an equal measure of worship and lust. Julian's gaze never wavered as that talented mouth worked him with ardent dedication before releasing him. Swollen wet lips parted.

“Please…”

Without a word, Elim put down his book and stood, extending his hand. Julian scrambled to his feet, giving a little gasp as Elim scooped him up and carried him into the bedroom. Elim lay Julian down on the sheets gently, reverently, trailing kisses along honeyed skin as his fingers worked open the knot at his beloved’s waist. He pulled back to smooth the robe off Julian’s shoulders when he looked up into wide hazel eyes, gazing at him with something that looked like devotion mixed with pain.

“My love, what’s wrong?” Elim asked, all carnal thoughts shoved aside in his concern.

Julian took a deep breath, blinking away the tears that had gathered in his eyes. “It just struck me that…I’ve never had a happy Christmas before. Not really. When I was young it was always with my parents and they were…” he looked away and his expression darkened for a moment before he met Elim’s eyes again. “And when I was older, I didn’t have anyone really special to share it with. Not like with you,” he said, his voice cracking slightly with emotion. “I’ve…never felt anything like this before, Elim…the way I do with you. You’ve made this my first real Christmas and I just…” he took another breath before giving a small smile. “Thank you.”

Elim was speechless for several moments, staring in wonder at this extraordinary man. Part of his brain was cursing Richard and Amsha Bashir for their despicable treatment of his beloved in his youth. Elim knew something about painful childhoods, and the thought of his treasure suffering when so young tore at his soul.

Another part was bursting with pride that he, HE was Julian’s “special one.” No one else had ever measured up in Julian’s mind. Only him. The thought made his heart feel like it was about to burst. He cradled his precious Julian’s face and kissed away the tears that had spilled onto his cheeks.

"My sweet, beautiful Zjhul’yan…my only regret is that I cannot undo the pain of the past, cannot erase what has been done to you. I can only swear to you that I will make this day, and every subsequent one, as joyous as I possibly can. I don’t fully understand this holiday, but it’s important to you. Therefore it’s important to me. You are my world, my Zjhul’yan….my beloved.”

Julian launched himself into Elim’s arms, burying his face against a broad gray shoulder. “I love you so much,” he whispered.

Elim cradled his Julian close, stroking his hair and rubbing soothing circles across his back. “I love you too, my Zjhul’yan,” he murmured. “More than there are words to say.”

They stayed like that for a while, until Julian pulled back to look at him with a mischievous twinkle in those enchanting hazel eyes.

“If I recall, we came in here for a reason…”

Elim laughed and laid his Julian back down onto the sheets, working the robe off his body. “So we did, beloved…”

**Author's Note:**

> By the by, it's not a coincidence I posted this around June 25th. It's six months 'til Christmas and frankly, we could all use a little cheer.


End file.
